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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28827384">Empty Hearts and Falling Acrobats</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrionHunts/pseuds/OrionHunts'>OrionHunts</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson-centric, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Dick Grayson, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mental Health Issues, Protective Jason Todd, References to Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Unreliable Narrator</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:36:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,031</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28827384</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrionHunts/pseuds/OrionHunts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Perched at the highest point in Gotham, Dick realizes that maybe not everyone can be saved.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dick Grayson &amp; Jason Todd</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>201</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Nightwing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hands shaking, Dick feels nausea overcome him as he stares at the scene below him. Perched on Wayne Enterprises, Gotham stretches below him. Dozens of people loiter on the trash-filled sidewalk, all laughing at something irrelevant. Maybe someone said a joke, maybe a jovial anecdote. Innocence seeps from them, and Dick cannot help but feel jealous. He can almost taste the happiness that emits from them.</p><p> </p><p>Idly, he contemplates his own position in life. </p><p> </p><p>No, Dick couldn’t say that the emptiness within his heart began suddenly… He had been feeling detached for a while now. His apartment could show that sentiment too, otherwise, clothing wouldn’t be piled sky high and trash would be taken care of. </p><p> </p><p>Dick wonders if everyone falls victim to ‘Sunday blues’ the way he does. If not everyone, then if most people do.</p><p> </p><p>If anyone does.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Apathy’s a bitch, and sadly, he’s not a stranger to it. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Pulling him from his thoughts, a buzzing sound ignites, bringing his com to life. </p><p> </p><p>Strange. He can’t seem to remember the last time a friend or family member called him just to talk. To check up on him. It’s always business and somehow that notion replaces a touch of his apathy with anger. </p><p> </p><p>Bruce’s voice follows, barking, “Suspicious behavior’s brewing on Fourteenth Street. Signs point to the Joker being involved.”</p><p> </p><p>The communication falters. Static takes its place before coming back on. </p><p> </p><p>“Help needed. Nightwi–”</p><p> </p><p>And Dick turns it off.</p><p> </p><p>Truth be told, on nights like this he shouldn’t be out on patrol. Nights where he would rather be staring at a wall engaging in nothing rather than having to put on a facade of happiness to deal with Gotham’s ever so lovely horror. Nights where he shouldn’t be trusted on top of a building.</p><p> </p><p>He knows that he should help Batman and the others, but…</p><p> </p><p>With hands shaking, he turns back on his com. </p><p> </p><p>“Red Robin on scene. I have a view from–”</p><p> </p><p>And suddenly, the device is turned back off.</p><p> </p><p>Having not moved, Dick remains perched on top of the crumbling, cracked building. Spandex and kevlar protect his hands from the harsh grain of the cement. But the materials don’t protect him from the desire to fall. <em> Fall, fall, falling. </em> That’s all he wants. Absentmindedly, he wonders how it feels for empty air to encompass him. The feeling of air whooshing around him, enveloping him in a hug as he plummets the way his parents had all those years ago. </p><p> </p><p>At the forefront of his mind, Dick dreams of having the gall to finally...</p><p> </p><p>A thud disrupts his thoughts. To an untrained ear, he wouldn’t have noticed anything. But to one of Gotham’s bats? It’s as loud as fireworks.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Maybe he should fall. Maybe living wasn’t as cracked up as he had thought. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Maybe Bruce would replace him again. Giving away his Nightwing legacy the way he gave away Robin. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Maybe this rotting feeling in the core of his heart would finally, finally stop consuming him whole.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Tracing the cracks in the cement, he ignores the new presence behind himself for a brief moment before hands grip his shoulders. </p><p> </p><p>“Dickface.”</p><p> </p><p>Snapping his head back and eyes up, blue meets green. </p><p> </p><p>Jason shouldn’t be here. He had made his own feelings– hatred– towards Dick very clear the last time they had spoken with each other.</p><p> </p><p>Memories of last week’s fighting dance across his mind... </p><p><em> Sometimes, late at night, after patrol, Dick likes to pretend he lives a normal, white picket fence life. He imagines a woman– perhaps a steady girlfriend, maybe even a wife– waiting for him in bed. Instead of leaving a vigilante shift, he just left the office. Home’s not his sloppy bachelor’s pad in Blüdhaven, but rather it’s a cozy little house in the suburbs. Instead of apathy, he feels warmth and love. In his perfect world, he has a close relationship with the rest of the </em> <strike><em> family </em></strike> <em> Wayne family too. Bruce isn’t just a formidable hero but rather a father– like his legal responsibility. In his perfect world, Tim and Damian don’t argue every second of every hour; maybe they’re not friends– can never be friends, really– but they at least tolerate each other. In this world, Jason and he are–   </em></p><p> </p><p>Suddenly, he cannot seem to remember a single happy moment with Jason.</p><p> </p><p>His supposed Little Wing. His baby brother. His–</p><p> </p><p>“What’s with the… Goldie, are you alri–”</p><p> </p><p>Snapped to reality, suddenly he’s standing up too quickly and taking a step back. Jason steps forward. Eyebrows furrowing, Jason’s eyes scan his face for something to let him know what’s going on.</p><p> </p><p>“Dick, something’s wrong. Are you–”</p><p> </p><p>Jason’s baritone voice fades in and out of his ears. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Dick’s had his own fair share of broken speakers. Trying to pinch pennies, he waits until items break down completely before replacing them. So he’s spent hours listening to music on systems that fade in and out of volume, looping in circles, fuzziness attacking the music’s quality. Maybe if he hadn’t been so stubborn he wouldn’t have to barely scrape by in life. Maybe... </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Seriously sit down. I… B, something’s–”</p><p> </p><p>Jason’s talking into a com. Dick’s own com is buzzing. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Buzz, buzz, buzzing. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Hands grip his wrist. They’re gloved, but Dick knows they’re calloused underneath.</p><p> </p><p>Delirium fogs his mind as he remembers the hatred Jason has for him.</p><p> </p><p>Of the lack of personal calls from his family.</p><p> </p><p>The emptiness in his heart.</p><p> </p><p>How lonely nights in his messy, cramped apartment can be.</p><p> </p><p>Falling couldn’t seem any better as he rips his wrists away from the Red Hood and plummets.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Red Hood</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sometimes it’s easy to forget that some birds cannot fly. </p><p>Jason, sadly, learns that the hard way.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Slow nights always begin and end the same. While Jason will never complain about the lack of illegal activity, that isn’t to say he won’t complain about being bored.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thinking ahead, he already foresaw the remainder of the evening. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d stop a mugging here or there, maybe catch up with the Replacement or Demon Spawn. Hell, he might even reach out to see what Golden Boy was up to.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sighing, Jason briefly pulls off his helmet and feels the frigid air. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>None of the above would probably happen, in all honesty. With the holidays over, nights seem to drag on for too long with too little time to catch up with family.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Because whether he likes it or not, Bruce and the boys will always be his family.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Almost nothing interesting ever happens when the air drops to below freezing. It’s as if villains are afraid of the cold.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>What a nonsense notion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Laughing silently, Jason keeps his pace up as he jumps from roof to roof. Cement and brick crunch under his boots. Knees popping occasionally from the stress and pressure old age seems to bring him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Barely in his twenties and he’s already calling himself old… That’s the life of a vigilante.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Powering on, Jason hears Bruce– well, at the moment, Batman– come to life, saying, “Suspicious behavior’s brewing on Fourteenth Street. Signs point to the Joker being involved.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A beat drops before he continues to request Nightwing and Red Robin’s help.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Internally sighing and without his presence needed, Jason continues on his route to the business district. Maybe Bruce doesn’t quite believe he’s a ‘reformed killer’, but he still would like to at least be trusted to help their mission. It isn’t as if–</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stop. Thinking like that can only lead to seeing green and breaking promises.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Shaking his thoughts away, Jason finds himself a dozen steps closer to his destination. Smog clouds the air, but Jason cannot help but enjoy the view. Looming buildings and near-empty streets welcome him, and the almost silent night sings music to his ears.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Smiling internally, Jason basks in the glory of it all. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Towering over the rest of the neighborhood, Wayne Tower sticks out like a sore thumb. It overshadows all of Gotham and stands as an absolute gem of the city. It shines like a lone beacon of hope– an odd thought given the structure’s composition of crumbling rock and dusty granite. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tonight, for some reason, Jason feels a pull towards the building.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe it’s his lucky night to save some poor, innocent victim from a robbery. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Or maybe something more sinister is at play.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Contemplating, Jason considers that there once was a time in his life that he proudly wore the name Wayne. He would never admit it, of course, but Jason had appreciated Bruce’s efforts to take him in. The man has the emotional intelligence of a brick wall, but Jason would rather that than having to starve for a living.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That’s not entirely accurate. Chances were, he wouldn’t have even made it until the next March had Bruce not adopted him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Maybe he should make more of an effort to visit his family more. Probably not Bruce, but he wouldn’t mind seeing Alfred and his brothers more than once every blue moon.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Speaking of the devil, Jason spots the Blue Bird one rooftop away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Idly watching him, he recognizes Dick’s blank stare from his vantage point. While it’s a frightening expression on his usually perky brother, Jason tries to imagine it’s a result of not sleeping enough. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Deep in his heart, Jason suspects that tiredness isn’t Dick’s only problem right now though.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Climbing up to Wayne Tower, Jason strategically jumps on a wall behind Dick.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jumping down, making sure his steps were loud and clear, Jason strides forward and finds himself in front of his brother. A smile stretches across his face as he looks at Dick’s back, hoping that his smile can ease the scared tension forming in his chest. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Knowing that his entrance isn’t a surprise, Jason loudly declares, “Dickface.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With no response, his smile falters. Odd. Dickie rarely ignores him. Sure, they fight more often than stray dogs fight over scraps of food, but they’re still brothers</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
  <em>
    <span>Brothers forever, whether he wants it or not.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Waiting a beat, Dick finally turns his head, meeting Jason’s eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Blank. Empty. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lifeless</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s the stare of someone at wit’s end. The stare of someone lost and ready to quit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hesitating, Jason hopes maybe it’s just tiredness eating away at Dick’s expression. Hoping he’s just overanalyzing his brother’s appearance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s with the… Goldie, are you alright?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tick, tick. Jason waits a second, but maybe he shouldn’t have.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dick’s suddenly on his feet and taking a step back. Following him, Jason searches his face once more and follows his movement. But while Jason’s a yard from the rooftop’s edge, Dick’s practically falling off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He looks ready to fall, fall, fall off.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dick, something’s wrong. Are you on something? Do you need help?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their eyes don’t break, but suddenly something shifts and Jason grabs his com.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seriously sit down, Dick.” Turning it on and pressing it to his mouth, Jason falters before saying, “I… B, something’s wrong in the Business District. Nightwing’s in need of help. Location, top of Wayne Tower.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But how much longer will we be here?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Looking ready to prance away, Jason grabs Dick’s wrists.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Too skinny, far too skinny. Had Dick been eating? How long has he been off kilter?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How long had he ignored Dick’s slipping happiness? Has it been obvious?</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dick’s face twists from blankness to a horrified expression. Blue eyes blink thrice before Jason remembers that birds cannot fly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fly, fly, fly away. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’ll never grow out of Robin. Not really. His heart still is full of red, yellow, and green. With hope for a better life. For saving others.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Losing grip on his wrists, Dick rips himself away. Standing there frozen, Jason feels horrified as he watches his older brother launch himself over the rooftop.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Twisting in the air, Dick’s body plummets down, like an anchor in the sea. His limbs don’t flail, but his expression softens for a moment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Without wasting another second, Jason jumps after him. Feeling the touch of the rooftop beneath his leather boots and as the cement crumbles slightly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His heart beats too fast as he desperately tries to catch up with his distant brother. Feeling the air surround him and gravity take hold of his destiny, Jason fervently stretches to grab the falling bird.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>If only he had remembered to bring his grappling hook that evening.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you all for reading!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please share your thoughts below! I love comments and hearing feedback on my work.</p><p>Love you! Thank you for reading. :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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